Save a Parartrooper
by Paige Louise Jordan
Summary: Save a Paratrooper is the story Adolf Hitler's daughter, Hannelore. She is totally surrounded by a dictatorship and had plans of breaking free. And when she met Pvt. Webster, her plans unfold, but in a bloody and dangerous manner.
1. Love is Honest

I pulled him behind a random and large bush out behind the old barn. The sunset was slowly fading and darkness was rolling in. There were a few subtle rolls of thunder to be heard in the complete silence. I placed my hand on his cheek, my lower lip quivering. "I love you," I whispered quietly, kissing his cold forehead. His cheeks were drained of color and his body was completely motionless. I could feel a warm tear slip down my cut nose. The salty tear stung as it entered the fresh cut. A cool breeze rushed by me, a strong storm was rolling in. I felt my life was breaking into a million pieces right before my eyes. This one boy I had come to love was now gone from my life entirely. I grabbed his small, pale hand and held it to my cheek. I cradled his hand close to my face. It smelled of gunpowder and blood. Not a very sweet smelling combination, but one that brought back memories. Memories of me being something I was never meant to be.

I am Hannelore Hilter, the unknown daughter of Adolf Hitler.

I sat on the wooden porch at my family's Austrian home. The weather was warm and inviting. Summer of 1942 was here and I was ready to relax and prepare for the rest of my life. I was also finally able to take a breath after a long, few weeks of planning speeches for my father and organizing my 18th birthday. My excitement was running high. My father came out the back door and spotted me, my nose deep into his book, _Mein Kampf_.

"Hannelore," He shouted to me.

I looked up. "Hallo Vati!"

My father walked over to me and sat next to me on the swing. "How's my book?" He asked, "Is it any good?" He laughed.

"Ja," I said, placing my finger on page 137 and closing the top of the book. "You sure know how to write a book. If anything, you should have been an author, not a politician."

"Hannelore, you know, I think I am officially running in Germany's next election. I can and will improve the lives there," he said, wrapping his arm around my bare shoulders. "You'd be proud of me, right?"

I looked confused. "Vati, Germany is a republic, is it not? And isn't your idea… well… is a dictatorship?" I asked.

"Yes." He said, staring at the grass. It was about three inches long and needed to be cut by the gardener. "I'm going to be chancellor, then BAM! I'll change the government to a dictatorship." He gave me an evil cackle and left.

"Vati!" I shouted after him.

He turned around. "Was, Hannelore?" he asked, his comb-over slightly messed up due to the rather strong wind.

"Will you be publishing this book soon?" I asked.

"Nein… Maybe later in my lifetime… Why?"

"Vati… people may get suspicious. You know with the whole perfect race thing… I'm not questioning your authority Vati, but rather pointing out items that may destroy your chance of winning the election," I said, flashing a cheesy smile at the end.

He smiled back at me and walked into the back door. I bunny-flapped a page in the rough draft and stood up. My dress was crinkled and I ran my dry hands against the floral dress in hopes of smoothing out the wrinkles. I put a pair of brown, strap-on sandals and walked up the gravel driveway and walked to my neighbor's home. My best friend, Lukas Krause, lived next door. He and I had been friends since, well quite frankly, since I remember. A few weeks ago, he made a relationship changing comment. It all started with him and I taking our regular walk though the plush, Austrian country-side. Lukas stopped me in front of one of the many, clear blue creeks that run through these meadows. He pushed me into one of the deepest ends.

I felt his cold, clammy hands on my exposed back, and I felt my body lift off the ground then in ice cold water. I went under and bobbed up.

"LUKAS!" I yelled. "Help me out!"

He laughed and crouched down to me. We grabbed hands and just as he pulled me up the muddy bank, he stopped and whispered to me, "Hannelore, the non-existent child, I love you. For more than a friend, for more than a sister," he said.

I was taken aback. I had known Lukas for almost all my life, and this came to me as a shock.

Lukas pulled me out and I stared at him for a couple seconds, my teeth chattering. Then wrapped my arms around my shoulders and walked back home and didn't talk to him for a few days. Finally, I have the courage to talk to him like an adult.

As I approached the Krause's driveway, an uneasy feeling washed over me. Lukas could have possibly ruined our many years of friendship or turned it into something totally new. The one thing I knew for sure was that I didn't want to lose him. I could see his parents white home at the top of the little hill and I heard a door snap shut. I took one deep breath and stepped forward. The walk seemed like an eternity. As a felt I grew closer, the house seemed to move back farther. Suddenly, like that, Lukas stood in front of me.

"Hannelore. I am so sorry about what happened a few days ago. I never intended to tell you, but it just…well came out," Lukas said, looking away.

I placed my right hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. It's all good. I'm not sure how I feel… I mean, there is so much going on with my life. And because mein Vati running for chancellor, I think I'm moving to Germany. Not cool. But, hey, you should be moved out by now, come live with us. You are my best friend after all," I said, hugging him. I felt him sigh and he hugged back.

I heard the front door open and then snap shut again. "Hannelore!" I heard his mom shout. "Your father rang over. Better get home, some important guests are coming, I guess…" she said.

"Danke, Mrs. Krause!" I said. I kissed Lukas' cheek and ran home.


	2. Tolerated

"**It is always more difficult to fight against faith than against knowledge." – Adolf Hitler**

As I approached my family home, Mein Vati shouted to me.

"Hannelore! Hurry! We need to talk, now!" He yelled. My father was a bit of a control freak. I still loved him of course, so I sang his praises. I picked up my speed and got home in no time.

I went up on the front porch. "Ja, Vati," I said, partially winded.

"Party in two and a half hours, the house, luckily, is cleaned and now all I need is food. Can you make some steak and potato salad? It's just a few men helping me plan the campaign. And by the way, thanks for writing those speeches," he said, rubbing the top of my head and then walking back inside.

"You're welcome!" I called after him, chuckling lightly. I unbuckled the straps on my shoes and slid them off and left them on the patio.

I walked into the house and through the landing. It was filled with all of my father's artwork from when he was an aspiring youth. Times changed, Elva had me, and then left my father and I. Mein Vati still has yet to explain why. I walked past the dining hall, and the living room, past the winding stair case and into the kitchen and prepared the men a supper. About an hour and a half in, I heard my father open the door and the footsteps of a bunch of hearty and hungry men.

I placed the final steak on the fifth plate and called for my dad.

"Vati! Where are we eating?" I asked, balancing the plates in my arms.

"Ah, dining room. Business first, then fun," he said, tapping my nose and taking two plates. I placed my three plates in front of Georg, Hans and Erik.

"Let me grab the potato salad," I said, my voice fading off as a power walked back to the kitchen, grabbed the potato salad and walked back to the dining room. I placed it on the table. "Beer, gentleman?"

They all nodded in agreement. I walked back into the kitchen and filled up three mugs and placed them on the table, walked back to the kitchen again and filled the final three.

"Anything else, Vati?" I asked, politely as possible.

He shook his head and walked back to the men. I stood in the kitchen and listened to them rejoice as my father walked in. I smiled and walked up stairs to my rather big room for a child.

I plopped down on my bed and looked around. My walls were filled with Picasso and my father's campaign posters. My vanity set was about 100 years old and my tea table and chair set were about 50 years old. My cat, Homer, hopped on my bed and cuddled next to my leg. I felt his warm and hairy body through my thin dress. I reached my hand over and gently rubbed his head. Purring poured from his kitty lips.

After a long while of reading, writing and studying, mein Vati called for me.

"Hannelore!" he yelled. "Come here!"

I got up and walked down stairs, the cat on my tail. "Ja, Vati?" I said.

"The men and I are going outside and taking a walk. Fresh air is stimulating." he said, puffing out his chest. "I'll be back around 11." he deflated and kissed my cheek and walked away.

I sat on the top stair. "Unbelievable." I said, covering my face. "Him and his stupid friends," I said petting the cat. "I feel neglected sometimes." I stood up slowly and walked to the living room. I turned on the radio and listened to a few radio shows. The pain of life always seemed to disappear when I listened to the radio. With the cat curled up on my lap I nearly fell asleep half way through the show, but I was awoken from my lazy slumber with a shout from my father. I set the cat on the chair and I walked to the door. There outside stood my dad bloody, bruised, and laughing.

"Vati!" I yelled. "What the hell happened?"

He looked at me and laughed. "I am drunker than a skunk," he said, high-fiving Hans. My father braced himself and Georg charged at him. They wrestled like the Austrian drunks they were. My dad threw Georg to the ground and Georg returned with powerful blows to his my dad's face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I shouted, running over to their sides. "I think it's time to stop and for you men to go home," I said, placing my hands in the grass.

They ignored me.

"You guys!" I yelled.

Suddenly, I felt Georg's fist in my mouth. I flew back five feet and I hit my head. I slowly raised my shaky hand and felt my mouth. Blood was slowly pouring out of it. I looked up at my dad. "FUCK OFF!" I yelled. I wiped off some blood and stormed in the house. I gently covered my mouth and walked into the bathroom.

My father was quick to follow. "Hannelore…," he said quietly, peering into the bathroom. "I am so sorry. The guys and I… we were having fun," he said, partially smiling.

"Dad, this happens when ever you hang out with them!" I practically yelled. I turned on the sink and placed a rag underneath it and soaked up some warm water and dabbed it on my tore gum and lip. "They need to go and you need to sober up." I looked at him. "What are you waiting for?"

He put his head down and walked out. I investigated my cuts. They were surprisingly small. Who knew so much blood could come from something so small? I touched my gum. The bleeding had stopped. I rinsed off the rag and threw it in the laundry hamper and waited outside the bathroom for my father to come.

After about five minutes, he finally walked in. "Hannelore, I need to be cleaned up…" he said quietly.

I nodded my head and directed him into the bathroom. "Vati, sit on the toilet," I said pulling out a rag. I turned on the faucet and let the water run warm while I looked at his cuts. He had a rather large gash on his right arm and his right cheek. Otherwise, his face was covered in specs of dirt and dried blood. I dampened the rag and wiped all the dirt off his face. "Vati, you need to focus more," I said, rising off the rag and wiping him up some more. "The election is coming soon and your ill-prepared. Vati, I want you to win."

He looked up from his mud-caked pant legs. "You do?" he asked, innocently.

I started to bandage up his cheek. "Of course I do. I only want the best for you." I said, taping down a piece of gauze.

"Hannelore, what do you say, we head to Munich next weekend?" he asked.

I laughed and cleaned out his wound on his right arm. "Don't forget. Remember, you're drunk right now," I said, laughing and placing a piece of gauze down and taping it. I washed my hands and clapped them together. "All done!"

Mein Vati stood up and shook my hand. "Pleasure doing business," he said, ducking out of the bathroom.

I sighed and left. I turned off the light and headed up stairs. I changed into some comfy pajamas and headed to bed for the evening.


	3. 1944

"**The day of individual happiness has passed.****" – Adolf Hitler**

I awoke. I wish I could say what I had experienced was reality. But, the truth was, it was just a dream. My one reoccurring dream, the last time I spend time with Adolf Hitler, mein Vati.

It was June 5th, 1944. I sat in my father's car as I waited for him to finish and conversation with some other authority. I sat in the back seat, picking at my nails. "Oh mein Gott…" I whispered quietly. I looked at the driver and opened the door. I slid on a nearby coat.

The driver turned around. "Hannelore, where do you think you're going?" He asked me.

"I am almost twenty goddamn years old. I am going wherever the hell I want!" I shouted, slamming the door behind me. I crossed my arm and stomped down the street. I started to get strange looks from people. I stopped in front of a shop, marked Jude, and looked at my reflection. My hair was alright, nothing in my teeth. Something did catch my eye, though. My coat. I had accidently slipped on my father's coat. I became flustered and tore off the coat and slammed it to the ground. I walked into the rather large story and looked for the cashier. She saw me, her Star of David sticking out like a sore thumb, and tried to hide.

"Wait!" I yelled, speeding up my pace to catch her.

"Was?" she asked, quietly.

"Hitler, you hate him, right?" I asked, like the cocky bitch I was.

She nodded her head, carefully.

"Well, I hate mein Vati also!" I screamed.

The woman relaxed and stared at me. "You're Hitler's daughter?" she asked. She laughed a bit. "Are you SERIOUS?" She yelled.

I nodded my head, trying not to cry, but the tears came. "He's a jackass!" I sobbed.

The woman reached out, uneasily, and hugged me. I sobbed into her shoulder. She hushed me.

I looked up at her, into her deep, brown eyes. "I don't want people to suffer any longer. My dad is a killing machine…" I said quietly.

"I know," said the woman, kissing the top of my hair. "I know."

Suddenly, in stormed a few SS officers. One of them approached me, and handed me to my father. The other SS officer aimed a gun at the woman.

I started to walk away when my father grabbed me. "Let go of me, YOU BEAST!" I screamed, squirming in his death grip.

The man with the gun clicked the trigger and the lady fell dead to the ground.

"Nein!" I screamed. "Nein, Nein, NEIN!" I kept screaming until my father whipped me around.

"Hannelore, I don't ever, EVER want to see you next to a Jude again!" He screamed.

"Dad," I said quietly. "You're a monster." I released myself from his grip and I walked out.

I walked down the street. It was about five in the evening in Munich and I needed to get on a train to Normandy, France. Lukas and I were going to a party together and then to watch the sunset in the Normandy hills.

I walked down the packed Munich streets towards the train stop. As I approached the same train stop, what just happened had sunk in. My father was a murderer. He was an advocate for genocide. He lied to the German population. I boarded my train and the entire two hour ride, all I could think about was the murder of that innocent, Jewish woman. All she had done was console me. Yet, father didn't want me to be touch by a Jew. That was my best guess.

At 5:45, my train stopped in Normandy and I met up with Lukas.

Lukas saw me and embraced me in a hug. "Hannelore," he said into my hair. "Let's get to the party."


	4. Captured and Accepted

"**If today I stand here as a revolutionary, it is as a revolutionary against the Revolution." – Adolf Hitler**

It's funny to think of how just a few years ago, I never imagined myself seeing Lukas after I turned 20, never the less, cuddling next to him on the way to a party. I cuddled closer to him, trying to conserve my body heat. The car was freezing.

"I know no one at this gathering…" He said quietly. "Well, except my mom and dad…"

I pulled out of the hug. "Your parents… Really?"

He shrugged his shoulders and coward a bit. "I know you and my mother always haven't seen eye to eye, but please?"

I smiled. "I'll suffer!"

As we got to the party, I soon realized how much this is party didn't matter to me but rather having Lukas with me. I put most of the party out of my mind and focused on what followed. At 1:45 am, Lukas and I snuck around the hillside 'til we found that infamous hill that we could look out from and see the sea surrounding Normandy. Lukas and I climbed the hill and walked to the edge. Nearby, we could hear the shouts of a few German soldiers. Their beers being clanked together routinely disrupted our moment together. I looked over at Lukas and smiled.

"I wish it could be like this forever," I said, leaning forward a bit.

He looked at me again. "I know," he sighed and grabbed my cheek. I peered over at his watch, it was two am. Before I had a moment to think, there was Lukas, his lips touching mine.

I gently pulled away. It was our first kiss as a couple. He almost touched my lips when suddenly, there was loud boom, and fire rose up from the beach. I looked over and saw amphibious boats pulling up to the shore. Turns out, we were on the Omaha beach territory, but I didn't know that at the time. I looked at Lukas. "If they find me, I am dead meat!" I said standing up, Soldiers poured onto the beach and some Germans started firing. I grabbed Lukas' hand and started to run away. I ran as fast as I could, my dress and skin, tearing in the process. Soon Lukas had tripped and fallen. I looked behind me to him. "Come on Lukas!" I shouted, now people falling from the sky.

Lukas screamed in pain. "My leg's broken!" He yelled. I hopped to his side. His leg was broken and there was nothing I could do about it. "Run." He said.

I frowned and blew him a kiss. He caught it and smiled. I smiled back and ran away. I ran. I ran until I could feel my bloody legs anymore. I soon tripped myself and laid face first in the grass. I waited patiently. I'm not sure what for, but I waited.

Soon, the sunlight awoke me and two American Soldiers stood over me, their guns pointed at me.

"Should we shoot her Luz?" he asked.

The man shook his head. "Lieb! She's a girl. If she ain't got a gun, then we don't shoot." He said. "And she's a beaut, eh?" The two American soliders agreed with eachother.

"Hallo?" I said, trying not to sound like a German.

"Damn Lieb!" he laughed. "She's a germ!"

I frowned a stood up, their guns still pointed at me. "For your information, I am not a Germ." I cocked my hip.

"Shit Luz," he said elbowing the other guy. "She's hot and speaks English!" Each one grabbed my arm and walked me to the beach. "Found one!" The one shorter one shouted. We walked down a small, sandy incline and walked to a little set up. The pushed me into the set up.

"What is this?" the guy folded over the desk asked.

"It's a girl!" The taller one yelled. "And she speaks English!"

The man turned around. "Boys, go." They saluted one another and the two left, leaving me alone with this man.

"What's your name?" The man asked me.

"Hannelore," I responded solemnly.

"Hannelore what?" he asked quietly.

I looked away and crossed my arms.

"HANNELORE WHAT?" he shouted even louder.

"Hitler," I whispered out. "But can I say, I am against the Nazi Party!" I begged. "Please don't kill me…"

"I won't kill you if you promise to help," he spat out right away.

I nodded my head. "Ja?" I asked.

"Help us win the war, Now go find those two again. I will meet up with you soon," he said.

I gave my head a nod and left to go find the two men. I walked past a few clumps of men. Many whistled and hollered. I grabbed my left elbow and bit my lower lip as I picked up my pace. Soon, I stumbled across the men again.

"Hallo," I said. "I was suppose to find you."

"Listen, Fräulein, do what we say and there will be no problem. I am Liebgott." He said. "And this is Luz, Webster and Gonorrhea," He said.

I smiled at Liebgott's last name but frowned at the last name Gonorrhea. "He has the VD?"

All of them laughed at me. "What's so funny?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"No… no… never mind Fräulein." Luz said. "Listen, Miss, I think Sir Speirs is gonn' educate you…" he said, turning me towards the walking Lieutenant. And soon, I was scared as to what fate held for me.


	5. Question with No Reply

"**The victor will never be asked if he told the truth." –Adolf Hitler**** (And so sorry for the delayed post, school is just such a busy time! But summer's here, so let the stories continue!)  
**

I looked at the captain. "Stand at attention…" he paused.

"Fräulein, call her Fräulein!" shouted Webster.

"That'll be ENOUGH from you Webster!" He shouted. He continued to give me the death stare. "Get me a gun," he growled.

Luz ran and handed him a confiscated Kar 98k. He tore the gun out of Luz's hands and shoved it into my chest. I stumbled back. "You're a Germ." He said backing away, revealing a shooting range made of cans and helmets. "Shoot 5 out of the 8 helmets," he said.

I loaded the gun and aimed it at the first hat. I clicked the trigger and the helmet went flying. I aimed at the next one, and it did the same. I did that for the next three. I saw Speirs nod. "Now do the cans," he said. "Fräulein," he added snottily. I aimed the gun at the first can and shot it off. I did that four more times. I knew suffering through mein Vati's lessons on how to use a Kar 98k would pay off, just not in this fashion.

"That bitch just got lucky!" I heard Liebgott shouted and the others laugh.

"Down," Speirs said.

I got on my knees. "On your stomach," he said. Oh, my poor dress.

I laid my gun next to me and stretched out on my stomach. I looked at him, "Now what, sir?"

He cackled. "Army crawl to third platoon, and back," he said, pointing in the direction of third platoon and then crossed his arms.

I sighed a frustrated sigh and began to crawl. "Why, why, why?" I said, crawling away from the men.I made it over the first hill and stood up. I looked around and began to run. I smiled and thought to myself, "_I have out-smarted these Americans!" _Yet, It turns out I was wrong.

Just as I rounded a corner, I fell into the arms of Private Webster. He looked me directly into my eyes and the corner of his lip twitched. "You passed third platoon," He said, with little emotion.

I glared back and pushed myself off him and turned around. "What do you guys want from me anyways?" I asked.

Webster firmly grasped my arm, making me take large sips of air. "I am not sure. Just do what they ask of you, you'll be okay." He promised me.

I awoke the next morning to a shake followed by a trumpet. Slowly, I cracked my eyes open. Standing over me was none other than Speirs. "Get your ass up and dressed. We have work to discuss."


	6. Speirs and the Idea

**Surprise! New chapter! Please enjoy! :)**

I quickly changed and pulled my hair up and back. Sloppiness was not tolerated in the 101st airborne. I left my bunker and went to HQ, where Speirs was. I walked into his office.

"I'm here, sir," I said, with little confidence.

He disregarded I didn't salute and offered me to take a seat. I eyed a chair and sat in it.

"Your Hitler's little girl," he said, shuffling some papers around his desk. "I'm sure you'll be able to help us out. You said you hated the Nazi Party, right?"

I nodded.

"Good, well, so do my men and I," he said.

I wanted to laugh at his smart-ass comment, but that would be rude. "I'll do anything for you. I know what mein Vati does. It's not worth allowing."

"Indeed," he said, his elbows resting on the desk, his fingers intertwined and his chin slightly rested on his fingers. "I have one mission for you in mind," he said standing up. "Can you speak French?" the Lieutenant asked, pacing back and forth, his hands behind his back.

"Yes sir. I can," I said, crossing my legs.

"I would like to send you behind enemy lines, and I want you to get maps," he said, stopping at the left corner of the desk. "It would be a risky job, but I can send one of my men with you, if you so desire." He offered.

"I maybe a woman, but I am Austrian woman, and my father's Hitler, I will fight for the freedom of Germany, France, my home country and many other European countries. I can do this alone. You will need as many men as you have," I said. "When is this mission?"

"I'd like for you to go tonight," he said.

I sat there in disbelief. I just got here and now they want to go and have myself killed. Walking onto the German's side was like suicide within itself. But like I said, I wanted freedom from mein Vati for everyone, Europe and the Americas. "Yes sir," I said.

"Now, go on and get some sort of grub, you'll be needing it," he said. I nodded and left.

I walked outside and took a few deep breaths. I couldn't decide what I wanted to prioritize first. My mission, my appearance or my state of hunger. I could fix the hunger issue right away, so I did. I walked to a nearby tent, where I saw some men eating. "Hey!" I shouted, walking over to the group.

"Leib!" one of the men shouted. "Is that one of the Germs you were telling me about?"

Liebgott nodded, "Yeah Perco," he said, looking at his k-rations.

The man who so rudely pointed me out, stood up and walked to me. "Guten tag," he sneered. He held out his hand to shake. "Oh, wait," he said, sliding his hand back. "Let me do what you're familiar with, Miss Hitler." He thrust his arm out in a mock salute my father makes his followers do.

I grabbed his out stretched arm, thrust it behind back forcefully and leaned him over a table. "Don't you ever do that again, I may be the daughter of a Nazi, but that doesn't mean I agree with him," I said, into his ear.

"Gee germ, but," he slyly looked up at me, "I am missing it, wanna do a little something while we're like this?"

I tisked him and let him go. I heard a few guys stifle their laughs.

"I'm hungry," I said. Webster tossed me a ration.

"Eat up," he said, under his breath.


	7. Preparatory Measures

So, now I was walking into my own death. Great. I love that idea. As I sat and watched these boys eat, I couldn't help but to compare myself to them. We are all in the great fight against Germany, to free a once great country from an evil dictatorship.

Mein Vati certainly has a way with words. If you were caught between who to vote for in an election and you listened to his radio broadcasts, there is no doubt in my mind that you wouldn't become a believer. He's good a speaking sure, but the words the come out of his mouth are complete rubbish. He hasn't kept a single promise since my mom died.

Maybe that's why he's a lying prick.

Now was not the time to internally argue my reasons to fight against him. Now was the time to get in there and ruin his regime.

I could feel all of the men in the tent studying me as a devoured my food. It was like I was some caged animal.

_Don't tap the glass, you'll scare it!_

Whatever. I was just wanting to get this mission done and over with.

I took a final bite and headed back to where Speirs was and we went over some final points before I was sent to get prepped with Webster.

"Now, we just need to know specific locations. If you can eaves drop on them and maybe over hear a conversation on future movement, that'd be nice also, but for a bare minimum, we're begging for locations for troops. I'm going to send you with Webster and he'll get you a gun, just in case," he said, smiling. "Look here," he pointed to a few specific points on the map. "This is the area we need you to stay in."

It was a lot to take in. I nodded. "Okay, what happens if I get caught?" This would be a very possible and horrifying reality considering the odds that were stacked against me.

"Oh," he sighed. "Well, let's hope you don't, but any rate, we will give you a cyanide pill, but that is in a very extreme emergency, like you're waiting to be beheaded or something like that. Otherwise, run." He shrugged his shoulders. There wasn't much he could do.

I was going to go into the enemy's side, with only a pistol, map, and cyanide pill. What a treat!

Speirs casually stood up and left the room. After he left, I stared blankly at the map. What was I to do? I'm only 20. I'm too young to die. I was left with no choice. As I studied each road, I felt the map mocking me, saying I couldn't do it. That I was a strong enough person to handle this. The map was telling me I was going to fail. I wanted to cry right then and there, but that was not an option.

"Hannalore," Speirs shouted from a crack in the door. "Come out here."

I solemnly grabbed the map and left. This was it.

Webster was waiting patiently outside for me. He was stunning. His uniform was only slightly tattered from a few nights ago, otherwise, he looked like he just graduated from basic training. Except his facial hair was almost grown into a full, burley beard. He didn't seem to care as he cradled his helmet on his hip.

"You ready?" he asked, leading me away from the camp, towards a couple of parked jeeps.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I sighed, trying not to let my voice crack. But it did and that caused Webster to stop dead in his tracks.

"Hannalore, don't be afraid," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You will be okay, you're a fighter. That's why you're here. That's why you're making a difference for thousands of people. You need to know that. I know you're career with the 101st airborne is young, but it's bright and shinning. The potential is seeping through already and infecting the men around here. Those who were once lazy and only here because this is 100 bucks a month, have now pulled themselves up by their bootstraps and are ready to fight," he said with passion.

I couldn't help to be amazed. I was just a little drop in the ocean, look at this ripple, and look at this will to fight! Webster's speech instilled hope and belief in me. I was ready.

We continued to walk. Webster kept rattling off mini inspirational speeches, but I had to tune him out. I was ready.

"Now, lucky you, you're getting the best gun in the business. A revolver. She's got a kick, so be wary. Want to take a few practice shots?" he asked, squatting in the back of the truck.

"Sure," I grinned.

He smiled back and hopped from the truck. "Follow me," he mumbled, leading me to the nearby shooting range. I gave her a few shots and practiced quickly reloading. Reloading a revolver was much harder than I had imagined. Maybe that was because my dad never owned a gun like this before.

Luckily, I managed to get shooting and reloading down pretty fast and rapidly. Around the 10th time and 2nd box of bullets, Webster suddenly reappeared but with a tiny little gift.

"Don't take this unless it's absolutely necessary. We need you around here," he said, placing the pill gently into my outstretched hand. I took a brief moment to study it, and then hit it out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Right.

I placed the pill in the tiny shoulder pocket and buttoned it shut. "Can we head back?" I asked, almost pleading as I unloaded the pistol and tucked it in the back of my pants.

Webster nodded and we strolled back just in time for a quick bite to eat and lessons on how to get information from a captured enemy without using torture.

The class was awfully boring. Harry Welsh was teaching it, so one could assume a boring and rather useless class. I let my mind wander. What if this, what if that, anything but paying attention.

As I was studying the room, I locked eyes with Speirs who appeared bored as well. I flashed him a quick smile and looked back at Harry who was drawing something indecipherable on the chalkboard. After an almost three and a half hour lesson, we were released to relax and go to sleep or stay up and watch some weird American film. I chose to sit on the edge of a nearby hill and watch the sunset, like I used to with Lukas.

The breeze gently rushed across my face, cool my inner nerves. I close my eyes to take in all of the smells. Just as I took in a deep breath, I was startled by a shout.

"Hannalore?" the voice paused. "Hannalore?"

I forced my eyes open and craned my neck around. "Yes?" I asked, very irritated at this point.

"I thought that was you!" the voice shouted, slowly jogging to me. It was Webster.

I focused my eyes back on the sunset and tried to be a good sport. "Hey Webster," I said, plastering a smile on my face.

"I'm rooting for you, and uh, would it be too weird to ask for a hug? I mean, I am a charming spirit and some of my charisma and luck may rub off on you," he asked uneasily.

I stared him down, my face unwavering, while his face went from a half smile to a half frown.

"Yeah, that's okay," I flashed a cheesy smile, hoping the awkward moment between us would be forgiven.

He smiled back at me and wrapped his arms around me. His hugs were eerily familiar, in the way he held me and the way he smelled. The hold was a firm but almost loving hold, both hands right on top of my shoulder blades. Webster smelled of sweet cinnamon, which was an odd smell for a German civilian and even more odd for an American soldier. I took a deep breath.

"Thanks, I needed that," I spilled.

I could feel his eyes wandering and studying my every movement. "I'll be waiting in the morning with a hot cup of coffee for you, right here," he chimed.

I didn't respond.

Webster sat for a brief moment before getting up and walking away.

This was it.


End file.
